


Chaos Theory

by badboy_fangirl



Category: E.R.
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 08:33:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10715907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badboy_fangirl/pseuds/badboy_fangirl
Summary: Post episode fic for 9x01 of the same name.





	Chaos Theory

There was chaos theory, and there were forces of nature, and there was Abby Lockhart, who made love just like she did everything else, with so much ferociousness, John found himself wondering if he'd live through it; but of course when he did, he was anxious to know when the next round would begin.

He'd discovered the fundamental differences between them--he'd become an addict to bring order back to his world, but she was one to cause even more tumult. WIth Abby, everything was a conscious decision.

It unnerved him that she chose the crazy, but when her thought about her mother, he saw that it made sense. What bothered him most was the fact that he couldn't stay away, and that he wouldn't stay away, and now that he'd had her, he'd be there every chance he got, trying to get more.

More of what, he wasn't quite sure, but those were thoughts easily enough silenced by open-mouthed kisses, and legs wrapped around hips and--though she'd accused him of being loud while they having their honeymoon at County--his determination to make her scream, and then to make her cry, and then to make her want him more than she wanted anything else, either alcohol or some other man or whatever, it didn't matter.

That was what would bring order back to the universe--when they both needed each other the same amount. Then he wouldn't distrust every moment she was away from him as one during which she might fuck the whole thing up.

He presses his lips to her forehead as he drifts into unconsciousness in her bed. She murmurs against his chest, "Carter?"

He's almost too far gone to respond, but years of waking on a dime rule him, no matter how much sex he's had that should render him incoherent. "Mmmm?" 

"I'm glad you're drawn to me," she says, her voice very low.

He turns on his side so that he can wrap his arms around her. Despite the fear, the nagging Jiminy Cricket at the back of his head that tells him it won't end well, he feels the same. In fact, what he fears most is that he's been in love with her for almost two years without having her, and that now that they're here, it will only get worse. They'll never be at the same level because he's been investing for so much longer than she has.

His lips rest against her forehead again, and he whispers, "Me, too," hoping she can't hear the tremor in his voice.

 

 


End file.
